


castles

by ameliajessica



Category: The Borgias
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliajessica/pseuds/ameliajessica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had always entertained the idea, the dream of leaving together. But that's what it had been back then, and that is all. It had been nothing but a dream. They had spun impossible situations, different impossible lives where they will been able to hold each other close and never let go. "A castle," Cesare promises, "where you and I rule over a land where we can see the sun rise from under the sea from our window, where we wake up to the caw of seagulls and the smell of fish is constant but somehow pleasant, because it is a place where no-one knows how to judge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	castles

At some point, Rome becomes too much. There is no reason -- or rather, no _one_ , sole reason for this. There is no moment either of them, either of the Borgia children (because that is what they are at heart: Borgia children), can pinpoint as yes, this is when or how or why they finally realised that Rome is too much and all they've ever needed is each other. Suddenly, it just is.

And once they've realised - decided - that they've overstayed their welcome (or perhaps, that there was never a welcome at all), it doesn't take long for them to leave. Cesare and Lucrezia like to think no-one else knows, though it is quite possible that their mother has more than just an inkling. Their father has no idea, which is what really matters because leaving him will already be difficult enough. It is not him they want to run away from, despite everything; no, not Rodrigo. If they could, they would run away from this Earth; find their own world and huddle close, surviving only from each other's warmth and the breaths they could steal in between kisses. But they can't run away from the world, so they choose to run away from Rome. They will miss the people, their bedrooms, the fountain and even the dust in the air, but it has come down to Rome or each other somehow, and when confronted with that, their minds had whispered, "Us."

They had always entertained the idea, the dream of leaving together. But that's what it had been back then, and that is all. They had spun impossible situations, different impossible lives where they would be able to hold each other close and never let go. "A castle," Cesare promises, "where you and I rule over a land where we can see the sun rise from under the sea from our window, where we wake up to the caw of seagulls and the smell of fish is constant but somehow pleasant, because it is a place where no-one knows how to judge."

He is fourteen, but the shining eyes of his sister are enough to pull poetry out of him, just to see her in awe. To see her hope.

Eventually they are told to stop murmuring impossibilities late at night. "Inappropriate," says the chambermaid kindly, hesitant when explaining to them why it's wrong now Lucrezia's line on the doorframe is a few inches higher, and then "inexcusable" says their father when she tells him. "They love each other," her mother tries to reason, and Cesare wants to tell her that she has no idea, that they've re-defined the meaning of the word and they've barely started living.  When Lucrezia is upset later and crawls into his bed anyway, he swears nothing will keep them apart and says they, everyone else, knows nothing. "An underwater castle," and the words wind up tangled in her hair.

So plotting their escape doesn't take much time at all, or much effort for that matter either. Hiding it feels like talking; like they've been doing it for as long as they could remember, even when they did not mean to. It's just another secret, after all, and haven't they always had those? Isn't it what they do best? And in the end, it turns out there isn't much to plan anyway; they pick the things they can't live without and since they're going together, it turns out there's not much they need to carry in their hands because what really matters? They're carrying it in their hearts.

Lucrezia packs a bag, stuffs a handful of her simplest dresses and then one of her favourites; the yellow one, that made Cesare stutter the first time she wore it. She takes it because it reminds her that Cesare, her Cesare, was once boy. She takes it and folds it as carefully as if it were spun out of gold. He takes her bag from her, swings it over his shoulder before helping her onto the horse.

In Cesare's bag there is not much, for there is not many pieces of Rome he wants a reminder of. He pulls the cross that hangs on his chest, places it on the dresser and looks at himself in the mirror, somehow feeling naked. Lucrezia, thrilled she is finally getting castles, comes up behind him and throws her arms around his neck in joy and endless affection. When he turns and kisses her, she laughs and he laughs and Cesare knows that this is how he is going to spend the rest of his life, laughing, and feels like his chest could burst. He doesn't feel like he deserves it, but gift horses and mouths.

The road in front of them seems endless and enormous and they're looking back at the place behind and wondering how it seemed so big before. They're wondering how they could have ever thought they would have spent the rest of their lives there. They are pitying the ones that will.

Because even if they are leaving, they are still Borgia, which they feel in their blood and will never forget. And Borgias, so they mother would lean over to them and say when they sat at their feet and asked about stars, are meant for more. It's why when Cesare would lower his voice late at night and wholeheartedly declare that he would give her a castle, that she would believe him. If Lucrezia wanted to fly, she could have. Anything that was impossible, was not impossible for a Borgia. She could have castles in clouds, underwater, on the shore or in the middle of nowhere.

Yes, a castle. But first, a fishing village will do.

**Author's Note:**

> There really is no explanation for this, just trying my hand at writing a bit more... poetically, hopefully? That's what this basically. Thanks for reading!


End file.
